As Long As We're Here
by Lifeisforlivingoutloud
Summary: America's finally had enough of constantly fighting with England, so he decides to become the catalyst to start fixing things between them, but when he tells England of how he cares for him, England doesn't believe him. Now, America's on a mission to prove his sincerity to England! Will he be able to succeed?


This is for 00brie's heartcompletion63. Thank you for waiting!

Prompt: America's finally had enough of constantly fighting with England, so he decides to become the catalyst to start fixing things between them, but when he tells England of how he cares for him, England doesn't believe him. Now, America's on a mission to prove his sincerity to England! Will he be able to succeed?

* * *

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm not the smartest person out there. Or the most artistic. Or the most musically talented. Or the strongest. I'm not Japan, Italy, Austria or Germany. I'm just me. I'm America. And until lately, I thought that was something to be proud of. I'm an individual, my people are liberal thinkers, and created a huge pop culture that influences billions of people all over the globe. I also thought I was brave. I mean, besides the horror movies and ghost stories thing. I do say whatever I feel, and I'm not afraid of who hears it. That's why I've always said I am a hero. Because I'd visit the cinema, and see amazing films with action packed plots, and the most astonishing protagonists. But maybe I just say things without thinking, and it's more of my moronic traits than any possible hero genes within me.

But I can still tell what people say to me, and about me. And it hurts, a lot of the time. I just pretend to be ignorant, because then they can just roll their eyes and continue calling me an idiot. And I guess that it's less painful that way than if I took it straight. That's why my best friends are so quiet and polite. Japan - erm... I mean Kiku, Matt and Toris can all understand me without my huge ego getting in the way of their perception. And until lately, I thought that was all that mattered.

Until lately.

* * *

"Good Lord America! Why can't we just stay inside today? And why am I even asking your permission?! You barged in here, demanding we spend time together, when I _clearly_ have other plans. You're utterly crass, rude, demanding - You think you can get away with it every time with just flashing a handsome smile, and brushing it - no me! - aside!" England was fuming.

I sighed and ran a gloved hand through my hair. I just plastered a smile on my face in an effort to appease him and play dumb.

"You think I have a handsome smile?" I asked, grinning.

He turned red, but rather from fury than the embarrassment I had hoped for. He looked about ready to pull his sandy blonde hair out.

"That's all you gathered from that? How can you possibly be so thick America?" England stormed into another room as I followed at his heels through his house. England entered his study, filled with ancient tomes and recent editions of classics. He sat down into his chair rather ungracefully, and bent over his desk, rapidly filling out forms, the tip of his pen pressed harshly into the paper. I frowned slightly, brows furrowing. The world meeting had been stressful for him, as well as the economy taking a heavy toll on the British Isle. I was no less guilty... I had teased him and put him on edge too. I couldn't help but feel that some of it was my fault. From where I was standing with his back turned towards me, he looked small. So very small. And being the 'hero' with moronic tendencies that I am, the words slipped right out of my mouth, without thinking.

"You're so small,"

England's pen jerked, leaving a long, thin, black line of ink on the form before it stilled in his grip. His knuckles had turned white, and his hands were shaking from grasping his fists so tightly. Even I had frozen. Of all stupid, idiotic things to say, I had to say that one. One that reminded both of us of a painful day in the rain, with muskets lowered and tears. Some fallen, some unshed.

The silence was deafening, if that was even logically possible. England's whispered words were laced with venom.

"What did you say?"

I immediately backpedaled. "I just meant that you seem troubled -"

He stood, and whirled around to face me, finger pointing accusingly. But that wasn't what frightened me. It was the way he spoke, completely calm, but deadly serious.

"Get out."

He advanced slowly, and I realized I had been backing up as I hit his side table, nearly knocking a vase of red carnations over in the process. I steadied it with my hands, but I couldn't steady my heart that was pounding loudly.

"No, really England! I swear - I didn't mean anything by it! I promise! I just meant - "

"Get out of my house, Alfred. Now."

I gulped unintentionally as he used my name, but I stayed rooted to the spot.

"God dammit Alfred! Get the bloody fuck out of my damned house NOW!" England exploded.

My heart was torn in two, as it looked like he was about to murder me, and cry at the same time.

"Look, Arthur -"

"Don't call me that! You really have a nerve, you know! You think that I liked being left alone after you declared independence? I became the land where the sun never sets, one of the largest empires this bloody world has ever seen! All because of all the colonies I conquered after you left. But you know what, Alfred? None of them were you. I won't stand here and be made a fool of! I'm not so weak that your leaving me made me a spineless bastard, but you hurt me Alfred! You were important to me... And now you just swagger into the room, acting like you own the goddamned place!" England was livid.

I finally lost my head.

"You think I have some nerve? You're the one who has the gall to let something like that stand between us! You never let me just get a fucking word in edgewise! Fine, I'll leave, if it makes you that damn happy!" I turned, and slammed the door behind me.

I heard a loud crash as I walked down the hall to let myself out the door. It was followed by loud sobbing. I wanted nothing more at that moment to turn around and throw open the door, and hold England. Because he really was small to me. Not in a powerless stance. He used to be so big, and he was fading so quickly. Hell, with modern globalization, even I was feeling the effects. My position as a world superpower was diminishing, not like I gave a damn. Who knew how long we would have left. Maybe a hundred years, maybe a thousand. But not long enough for all the wasted time. All the times that we had argued, fought, bickered and debated. It was all gone. But I couldn't just take back what I said, and pretend it never happened. My eyes were misty as I walked down his front steps. I realized I had left my bomber jacket inside, as the cold nipped at my skin. I groaned, ready to punch something in frustration. I didn't want to walk back in there after an exit like that. It was humiliating. So just like I had seconds before, I left another very important thing behind. Forget the jacket. I didn't just want to hold England because I thought he was small or some shit. I couldn't put it into words.

* * *

I decided to hatch a plan. It was brilliant, if I do say so myself. I grinned. It was foolproof... unless England didn't believe me. Then I realized my plan was ridddled full of holes.

Despite my oblivious nature, I do realize that the atmosphere was awkward between England and I for the rest of the week at the G8 summit. The fight wasn't as catastrophic as some of our previous ones had been, but... nonetheless I felt guilty for the umpteenth time. It was the last day of the summit when I finally worked up the courage to walk to Arthur's house. I knocked on the door, and was about to turn around when the door opening stopped me.

England was staring at me, rather unabashedly. His eyes had... some sort of emotion in them. I honestly can't read eyes.

I tried to form words, but only could when I lowered my gaze.

England broke the tense silence.

"Look America, I'd just love to stand here idiotically for the entire day with you, but I have better things to do," he tapped his foot.

Some part of that stung, and as stupid as it sounded, I don't think I would have minded standing and just sharing his company for the rest of the day. Weird.

He waited for an answer, and began to close his door, but I blurted out

"Wait! England, I came here to say that... well... damn it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a moron, idiot, twat, prat, git, twit and everything inbetween. I don't want our relationship to be comprised of a series of disappointments interrupted by only long spells of arguments."

The toe of my shoe twisted against the ground, and my hands moved nervously around as I chattered aimlessly. I just clasped them behind my back to keep them from moving. Partially because they also wanted to reach out and embrace England.

"And... Despite what I say all the time, I really do like you England. A lot. A hell of a lot more than I think you know..." My voice petered out as my string of thoughts did.

I looked up, and his cheeks were tinted a light pink, but he was smiling. A very sad smile. A heartbreaking smile.

"Thank you America, for... apologizing. But I really do have a lot of things to get to..."

My stomach twisted.

"You don't believe me do you?" I asked incredulously.

He backpedaled.

"No! Of course I- It's just that right now, I feel that maybe a little time apart will smooth things over. It's not that I can't believe you, I can't take your words sincerely now."

His eyes softened. My heart skipped a beat.

"See you soon Alfred," He shut the door and all that I could hear ringing in the air was the sound of finality.

He didn't believe me. Was all that repeated itself in my mind, as I left his doorstep. If anything though, it had only strengthened my resolve. I needed a new plan. One that would sweep England off his feet and convince him that I meant what I said. Every last word of it.

"Okay! Let's go!"

My right fist landed in my opened left palm.

The previously overwhelming feeling of despair was replaced by unjustified hope.

Silly, crazy, insane hope.

And so began my quest to prove to England that I meant everything I said.

* * *

"Hey England!" I called, running after said island nation. My files of papers and tie were flying behind me as I traversed the distance between us. The G8 meeting in New York City had ended, much to everyone's relief. His startled green eyes looked in my direction as he stood with his smart briefcase in one hand and styrofoam cup of hot tea in the other.

Things hadn't been as explosive as they usually were. We still fought and argued inanely, but at least not over reasons as trivial as before. I smiled, partially at him, and somewhat because my second plan was awesome, if I may say so myself. If I spent enough time with him, the words were bound to pop up in the conversations we had. I mean, we spoke about anything and everything. One time there was this one conversation about UFOs and flying green mint bunnies, so hell.

I caught up, a little breathless.

"Thanks for waiting!" I grinned.

He began walking toward the revolving doors.

"Honestly Alfred," he said exasperatedly with the hint of a smile underneath like it always is.

I trotted after him, grinning like a fool. He had been using my name increasingly often lately. I didn't point it out for the fear that he would realize it and stop.

He approached the door, and I slid in behind him. I don't think he expected that.

He gave me a strange look, and was about to push the doors before I placed my arm against the glass with an impish grin.

"Hold on tight!" I said loudly.

"Wait what? Alf-"

I never did hear the rest of that sentence because I began pushing the door as quickly as I could. He shrieked and gripped the front of my bomber jacket tightly. We went around and around and around so many times I lost count. I laughed as England shouted profanities at the top of his lungs. Even heroes eventually succumb to dizziness. I stumbled out of the doors, England following closely.

The whirlwind of papers settled to the floor as I ran to avoid Arthur's wrath. He chased after me at my heels, in close pursuit.

"You wanker!"

I don't think either of us lasted very long. We were barely running, out of breath and dizzy as all get out. I collapsed to the ground to sit Indian style. He caught up and half-heartedly punched me on the shoulder before he face planted on the ground beside me.

"Rmhmghphh," he mumbled into the ground.

"Ahahaha, what was that?" I laughed.

He lifted his head up briefly to say his piece.

"You're insane! Crazy!"

Now, normally when I watch movies, people find others attractive when they are pink and out of breath. That is definitely not realistic. Come on. Being all sweaty is mostly gross.

But I would be lying if I didn't find Arthur a little bit attractive . But I always think that, so I don't think that's a good comparison. Anyway.

I lit up as I rifled through my jacket to find a slip of paper folded in half, with the word crazy printed on it in my rough scrawl.

"Here you go! Don't throw it away, okay? Catch you later!"

His expression was one of confusion as I stood and sprinted off.

England unfolded it, brows furrowed, and read the word aloud.

"Crazy. Crazy? Huh."

He looked at my retreating form.

"Definitely."

* * *

There were eight more times after that.

* * *

In Dallas, I pretended to fall spectacularly. Now he found that one funny. He burst into laughter as I flipped, and fell on my behind. I told Francis my plan and he actually agreed to help me out. For a price of course. Just a kiss, and as nations, it's no big deal.

Francis appeared out of nowhere, as he usually does.

"What do you find so funny, Angleterre?"

"He - fell, ahahaha, head - head over heels!"

I popped up and dug through my pocket.

I kissed Francis chastely on the cheek, as I found the piece of paper with head over heels written on it. England stopped laughing, and frowned at that.

Maybe Francis was a genius. A pervert, but a genius nonetheless. Ever since the Revolution, things had always been a little weird between us. I don't think that would ever change, but he could be counted on. If I could make Arthur jealous, then that was just a bonus.

"Thanks Francis!"

I pressed the paper into England's hand and a kiss on his cheek too. Might as well take advantage of the situation, no?

I left to a spluttering and red-faced England and "ohonhoning" France, feeling happier than I had in a long while.

* * *

"You think I'm crazy?" I pretended to look wounded.

England sipped on his tea nonchalantly, "Deeply disturbed."

I beamed, and slammed a hand onto the table in front of us loudly, causing England to choke on his tea. I patted his back before leaving the small roadside cafe we met in. "Accidentally."

I watched from the window as he glared at me, and waved back. His gaze landed on the paper with deeply printed on it. He set the tea carefully on the table bent out of shape from my overexcitement. I skipped through the parking lot to my red mustang. Things were changing.

* * *

"And we can harness the energy of wind to power the expanding populations. That's my proposal." I looked down the large table to find many countries nodding in agreement, and some in various states shock. I'm not a dummy all the time.

England's face was a surprised one, which made me smile with pride, and my chest puffed out ever so slightly. I grinned at him, and he recovered enough to give me a tiny smile.

He was the first to stand.

"I agree with America's proposition, completely."

He rambled on as I busied myself with stealing one of Romano's loose leaf papers to scribble 'completely' on it. It's not like Romano was using them. He had drawn tomatoes all over the first one and fell asleep.

I folded it, and made a model fighter plane. Out of paper. Pretty badass, if I may say so. It landed in front of England, who had since sat down and handed the reins to Germany to finish up the meeting.

He scowled, and unfolded it before smoothing it out and staring puzzled at the word. He looked up at me, and I nodded. The frown slipped from his face to be replaced by a genuinely curious expression.

Half way done!

* * *

"Before I foolishly agreed to this," Arthur remarked.

We were standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, and Arthur was nearly dying from the heat. Unaccustomed to the hot weather as opposed to the rainy English countryside, he looked mildly irritated as I slid him a fifth piece of paper.

"What is this all about Alfred? Why am I collecting pieces of paper with random things I say on them?"

"You're keeping them right?" I asked worriedly.

He cleared his throat and looked to the side embarrassedly.

"Of course. I have them in my pocket."

I grinned and slid an arm around his shoulder, refusing to say a thing more on the topic. He sighed and we stayed unmoving. Both of us were a little scared to say anything, but we both knew this wasn't just two friends getting together. We were both a little afraid of where this was heading, but the good kind of afraid. Besides, nothing would happen until Arthur really believed me.

* * *

Months passed before another meeting was scheduled. I was missing Arthur something fierce. So could you really blame me for tackling him in the lobby?

"Aughh!"

"I missed you so much Arthur!" I burrowed my head in his shoulder briefly, and released him. I gave him my hand to pull him up off the ground. Something akin to electricity ran through my hand as they connected, and I must have looked frightened or startled because Arthur hastily mistook it for something else.

"It's okay, Alfred. Really, I won't get mad at you. Although you are stupid sometimes." "I missed you too." He added on, quietly.

I shook my head to clear it.

"Really?"

He smiled up at me, and a part of my brain pitched in an "He should smile more often because he looks really g-" I shut that part up quickly. No thoughts like that until later.

"Truly."

"I betcha missed this too!" I handed him a piece of paper and bounded to the java bar across the lobby.

* * *

My grip on his arm didn't loosen as we left the theatre. He chattered amiably, more energetic than I had ever seen him. I was scared stiff. The movie had been horrifying.

I think he noticed my death grip cutting off his circulation.

"Why do you insist on watching them if you are terrified of them?" He asked amusedly.

The white moonlight cast a pleasant glow on the buildings around us.

My brain still must not have been working because it slipped out.

"I really like spending time with you, so I just made up another excuse," I said lowly.

He started, and I backpedaled as quickly as I could.

"Well I meant to say - ermm.. Sorry? No- aughh! Do you?"

Arthur smiled, and the warmth returned to my body.

"Certainly. I undeniably enjoy spending time you, Alfred."

The terrors of the movie left my mind, but my arm didn't leave his as I slipped another paper into his. That night, I didn't mind admitting to myself that maybe, just maybe this - us - had a chance.

* * *

I smiled as Arthur fell asleep, head lolling slightly to the side. December was miserable in London, but this roaring fire made old man winter melt. The floral print couch held our weight pretty nicely, despite being half a century old. I scooted closer, throwing caution to the wind. Arthur's head rested on my shoulder, legs tucked beneath a knitted throw blanket. I felt sorry to rouse him from his peaceful sleep, but I couldn't wait anymore.

"Hmm?" he murmured sleepily. It wasn't the heat of the fire, but Arthur's words that sent a warm tingling feeling down my spine and throughout my whole body.

I started hesitantly.

"Remember... that day I came here and apologized for wasting all our time together fighting? And you, well you said you didn't believe me then? Do you, ya know, believe me now?"

"Wholeheartedly," He mustered before I gave him the paper. He squinted and held it up to read it by the light of the fire, toes curling in his thick socks.

"Wholeheartedly," he read.

"You're mad. How can you seem to know what I'm going to say before I say it?"

I smiled and slid him the last piece of paper. It said madly, but it was close enough.

He shook his head, and tucked his head neatly back into the crook of my neck, and fell back asleep.

Now it was all on me. And hell, I was more frightened than I had ever been.

* * *

"You have them, right Artie?" I asked as we tramped through the mountain snow.

His brow furrowed.

"Have what?"

I smiled and took his mittened hand, tugging him to the edge of an outcropping of rock covered in snow.

"The papers!" My voice echoed in the vast white landscape, hushed by the glittering snow, interrupted only by the needles of the pine trees.

"Oh, yes, here they are," He held up the nine pieces of paper.

"Here's the tenth piece of the puzzle Arthur!" My heart pounded as the last piece of paper was placed in his hands.

"You've given me everything I needed, so here's the last part." There were two words written on it, words that I was afraid would splinter under all my emotions that couldn't possibly be held in those tow tiny words, made of six letters. My feelings couldn't possibly be described in those two words, yet, they were. I watched his face intently, eyes a startling green against his pale face, flushed pink from the cold. I smiled uncertainly as he looked up, lips parted in wonder. He wordlessly turned the most recent paper over, and scribbled on the back. He handed it to me, two words of his own in reply. I was almost afraid to read it. But I did. And I'd like to say, our story is my favorite.

_With you_.

The ten pieces of paper fluttered to the ground as he jumped off the rock and embraced me, at long last. His gloved hands held my face as mine held his.

Things like this didn't happen to me. But I am sure as hell glad they did.

Our lips met hesitantly, soft as the meetings of snowflakes with eyelashes. All I could think was about his eyes, and how lovely they were. I wanted to kiss him fully, but I was afraid it would all disappear, the quiet magic of this surreal moment. But as Arthur pressed a little bit closer, and my eyes drifted to the papers on the ground, hidden in the snow and fluttered shut, we finally did. And his lips felt like devotion, and his embrace like forever. And I could only fall further.

_Deeply, head over heels, completely, wholeheartedly, truly, crazy, undeniably, madly, foolishly in love. **With you**._

_The End!_

_Thanks for reading! And please review :)_

_Here's to hoping for your happy future!_

_-Lifeisforlivingoutloud_


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